


Who we are

by yeahwrite



Series: Who We Are [2]
Category: Venom (Comics), Venom - Fandom
Genre: Boats and Ships, Gen, Mother Nature being mean, Refugees, Rescues, Sea, Storms, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18771772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahwrite/pseuds/yeahwrite
Summary: There's a boat in the water.And that boat is sinking.





	Who we are

**Author's Note:**

> For context to this: This is linked to how Toxin has survived and is bonded with Jubulile van Scotter!
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!

 

There was a boat in the water.

A boat, filled with people desperately fleeing their homes in the search of a better life.

From the old to fresh little babes, from so many different walks of life.

A boat, so, so close to reaching shore, in which they would at least be one step closer to an assured survival.

But not quite close enough.

There was a boat in the water.

And a storm in the sky.

And that boat was sinking.

And if that boat sank, those people were all going to drown.

They knew this, as they surveyed over the boat, trying to figure out what to do and maintain their pace in the water.

They’d known this, as soon as their radio had picked up a call from the coast guard – realising that the guard would not reach the refugees in time.

Nowhere near in time.

Too bad weather.

Too chaotic sea.

Even their own boat would not have made the journey without being thoroughly toppled – this was a time, in which they would usually have tried make dock.

But there was a boat in the water.

And they would not let it sink.

They would not let those people die.

And so, they dived once again to below the thrashing waves – putting every ounce of strength they could, hoping it would be enough.

Knowing it would have to be.

Ideas rapidly formulated and circulated in their mind as they swam, trying to figure out a plan for when they actually reached the boat – only to let of a yell, as a fresh wave smashed down, flinging them off of their course.

Arms and legs flailed, trying to regain the trajectory and composure they had held only moments ago – fear and desperation growing even further as they did, refusing to just give up now.

They would not and could not give up now.

Had they been human, this might well have been game over – in fact it just about certainly would have been, them swept away as water filled their lungs and choked the life out of them, with no hint of mercy.

But only _half_ of this entity was human.

And the other half would never let their human side drown.

And so, with tendrils and shape moulding into something more streamlined, they regained control and dived again, eyes narrowing as they did.

Down and forwards, echoing the belief that things like this were what they had been what they were born for – just as mantras also echoed in their heads, as they thought against waves crushing and smashing into them, with an unrelenting force.

Which was why they barely saw the engine before it hit them.

Only in the final moment, with a very violent start, were tendrils able to shoot out and fling it away, from what would have been a nasty blow.

It must have been knocked off the boat.

Horror gripped them at this for its sure indication of time running out – not that they got much time to dwell on it.

For the next thing they saw in the violent throws of the water, was a human.

Thrashing just about as wildly as the waves themselves were, body in the motions of a frantic person trying desperately to take in breathes that would not come.

In response, upon seeing this, eyes narrowed in focus as a mind worked quicker than most would ever have to, before with a fresh kick and a reached arm, more tendrils shot out, securing themselves around the person.

Who noticed and proceeded to let out a silent scream, barely betrayed by bubbles.

They paid it no heed.

They could not afford to.

They might not have to breath, but if they did not get this person to the surface…

And who knows how many other passengers might have fallen in by now – the surface might just be the vantage point they needed to try spot them all.

Irritation flared through half of them though, as they redirected and their rescuee continued to thrash – did they not understand they were saving them? What would happen if they let go, as they oh so desperately seemed to be trying to rip any and all tendrils off?

 _No,_ the other half reasoned.

No, they did not understand. People were never rational when they could not breathe – panic and instinct kicked in, to the point that a rescuer could easily be drowned.

One cannot fault them for that, but rather, simply do what must be done.

And with that, they ruptured the surface, hauling the person with them, where they took in their first proper breaths.

Already, their rescuer looking over the waves to see who else might need to be grabbed.

They were close to the boat now, but could see no stragglers in the water…

Looking back and forth back and forth, they could see no-one – unease tightly gripped them though.

For fear that someone else might already have sunk…but they could not afford to dive to look for them like this, or the rescue would certainly drown.

And if they did then, by the time they’d searched…the boat…

Frustration flared up again and even the most optimistic half felt that.

They would have to prioritise.

Quickly.

Even as they felt it rip their heart.

If need be, they would come back.

But they _had_ to get to the boat and now they had to keep to the surface doing that, despite the surface’s profound objection to that.

They wondered if they could…or would it?

Nothing left for now but to try it.

The vessel was done for regardless.

With their remaining free arm, a much larger, single tendril shot out and hooked itself onto that vessel – tethering itself on, as they let themself be pulled in by it, like one of those fishing rods that had provided many a dinner.

It nearly didn’t hold.

Too much friction and swaying and the anchor was not at all stable and all they could do is try swim as fast as they could and divide the tendril further, letting lots of little hooks dig in in lieu of one.

Costing and buying time with the rupture and anchor respectively.

And thankfully it paid off.

They reached the boat, following which they immediately hauled the person they were holding back on.

No time was wasted looking for any reactions, before they leaned back and retreated to the depths below again, this time trying to assess what would have to be done.

Half of them could only concede that all their expertise on sailing and boatmanship could not offer much in this case.

With the engine gone and holes present, this thing wasn’t going anywhere by itself…which meant…

Which meant that if they wanted it to reach shore, they were going to have to _drag it there._

Alarm flared on one side of them, even as they tried to manoeuvre into position, devising how to do this – but the other remained firm and resolute, gently pushing down upon the doubts of the other.

None at all being permitted on their side.

…All the same though, eyes scrunched shut, as every muscle in their body tensed up in preparation, a pre-emptive mental wince coming forth, even as they soldiered on.

Because this was likely going to _hurt_.

Biomass _expanded_ then, growing and growing, wrapping itself around the boat like it’s very own life boat for it.

Plugging holes and thoroughly anchoring it to them.

This time, the wince was not just mental.

And a deep, unfathomable coldness took hold of their human half, as alien flesh became _far_ too extended to keep them properly warm – the side of that alien flesh, being gripped with a visceral terror at this, realising and being unable to stop it.

But there was nothing to do for it now, neither half wishing to stop.

They could heal it when they were done.

For now, they just had to _swim._

Gritted teeth as the cold _burned_ through, they kicked off once again into a stroke, with the weight of several innocent lives irrevocably linked to them as they did.

They could feel themself straining and burning with a renewed intensity with each and every propelled stoke, as they fought to keep pulling and not break entirely.

They could not falter.

_Another wave smashing into them._

They would not falter.

_More biomass having to go up to help secure the boat, as a fresh violent wind neither toppled it over entirely._

They would never falter.

_A hiss of pain as they felt something in them abruptly tear, which they desperately tried to knit back together even as they did yet another stroke._

That was not who they were.

_Muffled screams from above as a small child tipped over board, them barely being able to grab them and put them back on top on time, as the currents had thought to rip them away._

They would not let these people die.

_Smashing against a rock, the boat survives, but part of them is ripped away in the process – resulting in yet another pained hiss._

If the rocks were here though, perhaps shore was nearby.

Cliffs, the rocks framed.

That was hope there.

A hope they gripped onto with just about as much vigour as they did the boat.

Almost there.

They were almost there!

_Another piece ripped off with another collision and a scream unable to be withheld._

Just…a bit… _further_ …

Come on…

_Come on!_

Th-

Sand.

They could see sand!

The sea floor!

They really were just-!

A fresh renewed vigour took them then, pain and burning fading further back into their minds.

A burst of speed, as they fought to close that final gap there – that last barrier.

Gap closing and closing and closing – until their feet were touching the sand they had seen.

Until they were running, not swimming the gap that remained – pulling up the boat onto the blessed shore with them.

 Heave and haul until –

They’d done it.

A deep, deep breathe of relief, that they finally allowed themself to have, as they also finally allowed themself to at last let go of the boat and start to knit themself back together properly.

_They’d done it!_

They surveyed over the beach briefly, seeing what must be the actual coast guard arrive as they did, before turning back  to the boat and its occupants.

These refugees, at least, would be safe now.

But, they weren’t done yet.

They could not quite rest yet.

First, they needed to know-

 **“Did anyone go overboard?”** Was asked, more than once, in more than one language – hoping that someone would understand.

Thankfully, a woman responded, as she made her way over- “No. No, we are all here!”

With a final sway then, they dropped to their knees on the sand, all the fatigue catching up to them fully at once, with the word that this was truly over.

And to their shock, the woman dropped to her knees right with them.

Dropped to her knees, as others followed in her path behind her.

“ _Thank you_.”

A chorus repeated behind her, as she took their hands in hers.

“I don’t know _what_ you are – but thank you _so much_. You saved us! You saved all of us!”

Shock briefly filled them at this - one in particular of them not being at all used to being _thanked_ like this before: the feelings of that being so strong, that they completely overwhelmed the other too.

Depriving them of an initial response, as they looked down at the hands.

And being so much so, that they allowed the fact to slip from their mind, just for a moment, that they would need to slip away soon too – lest some Task Force show it’s face.

“Do you have a name? What do we call you?”

This however, as joined alien and human eyes alike rose to meet the woman’s once more – they could answer.

Knowing, with every fibre of mind, body and soul, thoroughly joined as one – just who they were.

**“We, are Toxin.”**


End file.
